


The Morning After

by asdfghjkl_pudding



Series: The Gay Founding Fathers of Canada [2]
Category: Canadian History RPF
Genre: Adultery, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Binge Drinking, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, implied adultery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asdfghjkl_pudding/pseuds/asdfghjkl_pudding
Summary: The morning after John's nigh of binge drinking, some serious conversations ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jay36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay36/gifts), [schnorkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schnorkie/gifts), [ilove11candys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilove11candys/gifts).



> This is a product of pure boredom in math. Also not as good as the first.

The first thing George became aware of, was the god awful crook in his neck and the pain in his lower back. The second thing he became aware of was that he was sleeping on the couch. Why? Because that pretentious fucker, John A Macdonald took his goddamn bed. 

George slowly pushed his body up, cringing at the sound of his back and knees cracking. And not for the first time, he thanked God for his wife was taking their two daughters to visit family in Lower Canada. 

George was quick to wash up and judging from the sun it was probably well into morning. Breakfast was to be some eggs and bread, and he was actually able to finish two eggs, before there was unintelligible grumbling coming from his room. Moments later, John in all his naked glory was running to the bathroom, to vomit, ass out. Now that wasn't an awful sight for the morning. 

There was also something to say about seeing the biggest pain in the ass, of a man, he's known hurled over a toilet, miserable. No that certainly wasn't awful either. 

But as charming as it is seeing John’s miserable ass, George is not (that much of) a sadist. Taking a glass of water and a blanket, George wandered over to John (and only briefly thought of pouring it on his head) and offered him the glass and draped the blanket across his back. 

John’s voice, voice was rough when he responded with a gruff, “thanks.”

“Yes, well, I had to protect my eyes from your pale white ass, now don't I?” Was Georges quick response. 

A muffled groan was his only response. 

George bit out a snort of laughter, “not so witty now are we, John? Perhaps next time you want to go get drunk and leave your wife wondering where you are, you won't be so quick on the flask.”

Yet again, muffled grumbling was his only answer.

But George wasn't done, “You know John, if you want to be prime minister of Canada you have to shape up, you can't keep doing this shit. One of these days you're going to end up dead in a ditch and then what, you're going to leave your wife to the fall out, abandon your baby? Leave me to the running of Canada?” Abandon me. “John you have to take more care of your body, your wife needs you, your daughter needs you, goddamn it John, I need you.”

“My son’s dead, George,” John finally muttered, his eyes glassy and with few tears leaking out the side. “He was 13 months old, george and now he’s dead, and Isabelle, is ill again, I’m afraid she too will leave me soon. George, soon, you will be all I have left.” 

Well that was not where this conversation, George expected it to go. And all he could muster up was a small, pathetic, “I’m sorry, John.” 

John finished the water at his feet, and turned around. They were nose to nose. John let go of the blanket, it falls to the floor, leaving him in all his glory and slowly leaned up, and laid a small, sweet kiss to George’s lips. 

It was fucking awful. His breath stank of the aftershocks of vomit, and it was obvious John hasn’t bathed in the past 24 hours, during his rounds of bar hopping and binge drinking. It was probably the worst kiss George has ever had. 

The kiss broke, “that, was awful and nothing you can say will convince me other wise John. I’ll kiss you again, once, you have washed up, brushed your teeth, and have had a meal with me. I do however have to recook the eggs, which I will do in the meantime. No arguing, this is what’s happening.” 

John, stared at him a bit starry eyed, although that may have just been him dealing with his most likely very prominent headache. Before a small, tired small lays on his face. “Fine, can I borrow some of your fucking clothes, George?”

“I’m sure I’ll find something for you.” Ahh, good, John’s back to his loud mouth self. This, this is something he can deal with. George grinned and went to finish breakfast. 


End file.
